


bonus

by kittenhwa



Series: good little boy [8]
Category: ATEEZ (Band), Eden (Korean Musician)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Coercion, Convincing, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, Good Little Boy Hongjoong, Like.... Extremely, M/M, Sexual Coercion, Wet & Messy, bad consent practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25523002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenhwa/pseuds/kittenhwa
Summary: He’s been trying really, really hard to resist this.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Kim Yonghwan | Eden
Series: good little boy [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849024
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	bonus

**Author's Note:**

> so this is where it all began...
> 
> first of all, please note; the album preview drops in 4 hours. if the song is soft, we do not acknowledge how horny i am over the title.
> 
> this one is the heaviest in my opinion. please read and heed the tags - do it once, then do it again, and make sure you know what you're getting into. please tell me if i should add any tags.
> 
> this eden is not a good man. he has been grooming and coercing hongjoong into these acts for a long time by the time this moment rolls around. 
> 
> this is dead-dove-do-not-eat adjacent; proceed carefully
> 
> and with that said - enjoy!

“You know…”

Hongjoong tenses up. He hadn’t noticed Eden slinking into his studio, and the idea that it could’ve been seconds, minutes, hours, makes his skin crawl.

“Mmm?” Hongjoong hums, glancing over his shoulder. Eden is wearing navy blue nylon joggers, and a huge cardigan over an equally large shirt. Hongjoong swallows, reminded viscerally of the last time he’d seen that cardigan, hanging loosely around his waist as Eden drove into him over and over. It had tickled, distracting, and Eden had been unhappy with his lack of focus.

“Have you done enough today?” They both know the answer to that, because there is only ever one answer. Eden’s voice is low, coaxing. Hongjoong’s heard it so many times before— there is only one way this ends.

He turns back to his screen.

“I’m being picked up at 11,” he says. He’s been trying really, really hard to resist this. The sound of a footstep, bringing Eden in closer. He’s not even sure if the door is closed.

“I feel good about this one,” he tries again, hopes he doesn’t sound as desperate as he feels. “You know, the one Leez-hyung and I have been recording for? I think it might be good enough to be on the a—”

Familiar fingers make contact with his shoulders. The hands, large and warm, that have become like a second skin, slide down his chest. Hongjoong’s eyes close as he resigns himself to this.

He’s been trying really hard. He is weak.

“Aw, that’s cute,” Eden’s voice is quiet. His hands are heavy as they settle over Hongjoong’s stomach. His fingers tap idly, like Hongjoong is the table at an only mildly interesting meeting. “You think you’re going to be on the album?”

Hongjoong lets out a breath. He knew it was coming, but that doesn’t make this easier. It never has.

“We’ve been working on it all month,” he starts to reason. The hands press down over his stomach, and Hongjoong feels the touch through his whole body. It’s a little frightening, for a reason he cannot name. He shivers, and hates himself. He’s been trying really hard. “I think he played it for you the other day? And he said you said it was—”

Again, he’s cut off by a touch. Eden’s lips, such a rare blessing, pressed to his neck. Hongjoong feels tears spring to his eyes.

“You know what you have to do,” the words are murmured into Hongjoong’s neck. They slip along his skin, running down towards his heart and making their home there. It feels like that time he fell and broke a glass in the kitchen as a child, and the shards had sunk into his palm, small and stinging. He’d cried. He wants to cry now.

“Yes,” Hongjoong says. It’s barely audible, and rough with his unshed tears. He does not turn.

There is a beat of silence, and then Eden is dragging his hands up Hongjoong’s chest. They leave achy pain in their wake, but Hongjoong forces himself to put it aside. It is not important— he must earn this, Eden’s presence, his help, any bit of his approval. It’s tried and true; Eden dangles the carrot in front of him, and Hongjoong hops along behind him, always a step behind.

He stands, suddenly, finally, abandoning his project. The song on his screen sits unfinished. This takes priority.

“Come here,” Eden coaxes, stepping back out the door and into the main area of the studio. Hongjoong follows, as if tethered to him. The studio is warm, dark and homey, comfortable. When Eden settles back on the couch, Hongjoong settles on his knees.

He doesn’t even realize he’s gone blank until the hit lands. Sharp against his cheek, Eden’s hand is there and then it isn’t.

“Focus,” he snaps, and Hongjoong swallows hard, turning his head to face Eden again. He nods once, forcing his eyes to focus, and Eden’s smile is smug.

Hongjoong’s hands are well practiced in this dance. The choreography is simple, really, and Hongjoong’s mouth is used to this atypical sanctification. His cock fills Hongjoong’s mouth, long and thick enough to gag him, render him unable to speak. He knows this is how Eden likes him best.

He closes his eyes, pulls out all the tricks he knows, to very little response. He didn’t write the book on Eden’s pleasure, but Eden is the author, editor, and publisher on his; he shivers and moans a little when a large hand slides into his hair and tugs.

Eyes drooping, Hongjoong lets himself be pulled off Eden’s cock. He continues to stroke it, keeps the eye contact he’s being gifted with.

“What a good little boy,” Eden murmurs, and everything stops.

“What?” Hongjoong breathes. His lips are wet, but he licks them anyway. Swaying forward like he’s lost his balance, he takes in a shuddery breath. “What did you say?”

It feels like the still after a snowfall, the silence that descends on them. Everything is cold.

“I said, you’re a good little boy,” Eden repeats, and this strange tendril of, of  _ something _ , of warmth and fear and adoration and helplessness, zips through him at the words. Eden’s smile is all teeth. “Is that right?”

Hongjoong’s throat is thick with tears, suddenly. He nods, doesn’t care how the motion tugs at his scalp.

“Aw,” Eden pouts at him, mocking and benevolent and everything Hongjoong has ever wanted. “What is it you are, puppy?”

He doesn’t even notice how he’s being pulled forward until the head of Eden’s cock is pressed to his lower lip, eyes fixed on Eden above him.

“A good little boy,” Hongjoong breathes, and elation rolls through him like a tidal wave as he says it. His smile is wide even as his mouth is fucked down over Eden’s cock again, slow and deep.

Eden doesn’t give him anything more, just uses his mouth to get off. It’s messy, cum coughed back up when Hongjoong doesn’t swallow quick enough, and Eden makes a grossed out face when cum and spit bubbles out from his mouth as he pulls his cock out. They stare at each other for a moment, the air around them thick with something, everything, nothing at all.

“I’ll listen when I get a second,” Eden says finally. He tucks his cock back into his pants, and when he stands Hongjoong has to lean back to not get kneed in the face. He watches, still filthy with Eden, his cum, his touch, him, as Eden leaves him on the floor of the studio.

It takes him a long, long stretch of staying there, on his aching knees, until he thinks he can manage to get up. His legs are unsteady beneath him, but he makes himself go back to his studio, slumping back down in his chair and staring blankly at the now dark screen. Behind it, he knows, is the song he’s been working so hard on, the one he really thinks might have a shot of being on the album.

_ Eden said he’d listen to it _ , he reminds himself, and the thought of it makes him smile. His skin tugs where the cum and saliva have dried. He does not care, just stares at the computer, grinning.

He’s been trying really hard lately.  _ Finally _ , he thinks as he leans forward to get back to work,  _ it might be paying off _ .


End file.
